


My Gift to You

by Ozymanreis



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [41]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: All That I Have, Angst, Because I hate how their romance ended, Canon Divergence - The Reichenbach Fall, Discussions of Suicide, M/M, almost suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozymanreis/pseuds/Ozymanreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Jim's gift was a peaceful death, then Sherlock's is a tumultuous life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Gift to You

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #92: All That I Have

Jim pulled the trigger, hand still in Sherlock's. He'd meant to stare Sherlock in the eyes the whole time, but had involuntarily closed his lids and braced for the pain, but there was… nothing. He opened his eyes wide in horror, and pushed back from the detective, releasing his hand. Maybe it was just an empty chamber. He cocked the gun again and put it to his temple. Click. Nothing. 

"I'm sorry." Sherlock whispers, holding out his palm, six bullets piled on top of each other, "Did you need these?"

"Obviously." Jim blinks a few times, then drops his gun. He chuckles a little, darkly, but overall, seems unfazed, "But apparently your need was greater than mine, else you wouldn't have _stolen_ from me." 

"You were going to kill yourself." Sherlock states simply. 

" _Duh_!" Jim shouts, "I still would be, if you hadn't swiped my ammo, _doofus_!"

"Well… if I took the _gun_ , you would've noticed ahead of time."

"Why would you do that? _Ruin_ my plans?" Jim had given up his cool exterior, now visibly disturbed. He'd been planning to end it all. He _needed_ to end it. The game. 

"Because I don't want you to _die_." Sherlock's voice rattled him, but he stayed the course.

"But I _do_." Jim sighs, "This is the only way it ends. The only way I get away from it all. From you."

Sherlock frowned, clearly hurt by that last statement, "You're important to me, Moriarty."

"I'm also important to me." He spits, "And I've had _enough_." 

"Fine." Sherlock rolls his eyes. Perhaps it's a lost cause, but if that's true, some things didn't exactly add up. And this would be his only chance to clear up the remaining mysteries, "If this is about _you_ , why bring my friends into this? Why necessitate _my_ suicide to protect them?"

Figuring he didn't have much time left, Jim decided he might as well be honest. Something like a suicide note, but more personal… one last chance to please Sherlock, "To make sure you'd die as well."

"Why? What have _I_ done?" Sherlock ran a hand through his curls, tugging at them a bit, going a bit mad the longer they stood there.

"The world is _boring_ , Sherlock." Jim begins to pace, "And I'm not going to be around to entertain you anymore. I… I want to spare you from a life of despair." After stepping furiously back and forth, trying to decide his next best option, he steps up, now standing on the ledge of the hospital roof.

"Are you so vain?" Sherlock scoffs, internally panicking, saying _anything_ at this point. He dug deep, trying to talk Moriarty down, "To think that my life would be so horrible without you?" He wants to reach out, to take Jim back. To keep him from the jump. Odd, he thought he'd given up on this venture, but something nagged at him. 

"What was your life without me, Sherlock?"

"… I don't know." He looked down, "In reality, we've been playing this game since we were thirteen… how would I know? There hasn't been a moment in my teen and adult life we haven't been perpetually entwined."

"Exactly." Jim rasps, "Really, it's the kindest thing I can do for you."

"This is a… gift?" 

"I've spent forever being your nemesis. Making puzzles, games…" He began to tear up, "But that's all run out. Now… now, this is _all_ I have left to give you."

"I know." Without thinking, Sherlock grabs Jim's wrist and tugs him backward, throwing him off balance. Pulling him into a hug, he drags him from the ledge, back into safety, "And this is what I can give you."

Jim tries to struggle away from him, kicking, punching his chest lightly. Almost as if he were having a tantrum. But Sherlock held him tightly, not letting him move more than an inch in any direction, "We can end the game. Alive, Jim." 

" _How_?" He hisses into his chest, burying his face, hiding it from the sunlight.

"I don't know…" Impulsively, he kisses the top of Jim's head, "I really don't. But there has to be a way."

"I don't think there's a way…" Jim mumbles, shivering a bit at the contact from his lips, "But I'd be willing to stick around a little longer to see you try." He looked up, eyes and cheeks wet. Had he really been crying? Two wet spots on Sherlock's shirt confirmed it.

The detective smirks, "Why don't we get out of here?"

"And go _where_?" Jim grimaces, "Everyone in England now thinks you're a fraud and I'm a loser of an actor."

"Anywhere." Sherlock shrugs, "I was getting tired of this place anyway." 

In response, Jim smiles, curling his fingers into Sherlock's, pulling him close, connecting their lips for a brief second. When he falls back, neither party is sure how to feel about it. But it turned out they didn't really need to; they'd have time. As much as they needed. 

They walk away hand-in-hand. If Jim's gift was a peaceful death, then Sherlock's is a tumultuous life. 

 


End file.
